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Christ, consciousness, darkness, dawn, give glory to God, joy, light, miracle, O Antiphons, sunrise, The Sophia Center for Spirituality
As I consider the “O” Antiphon for today, so many images flash across the screen of my mind, so many beautiful experiences of sunrise! You have heard me effuse as I watch the color that precedes the approach of morning brighten the sky and give glory to God just outside my bedroom window. The miracle of color is surpassed only by the constancy of morning light. Even on the cloudiest or rainiest of days, we can count on the fact that light will surely come and offer us the hope of a new day.
The memory that spoke the loudest in me this morning was my experience of sunrise at the top of Mount Haleakala in Hawaii. People told me that it was a “must see” that meant getting up and in the car at 3:30AM and negotiating the many hairpin turns (more hair-raising coming down!) to sit in the freezing darkness and wait for the moment of sunrise. As the light began to penetrate, shapes appeared all around us: people who had been hidden by the darkness when we thought we were all alone on the mountain! There was no sound, just a large cohort of people sitting on the rocks, bundled in blankets, facing East and waiting in the silence…and waiting…and waiting. The expectation was palpable; we knew that the sun would absolutely not disappoint. And come it did – first the soft light, then the rays and finally the miracle itself bursting into presence over the mountain to thunderous applause and shouts of joy!
What calls us to such an experience of what happens every day? Can it possibly be the sense that sunrise is one thing that we can count on, regardless of what is happening in the world and in our lives? Whatever the cause, the visceral effect is sometimes so vibrant that the only reasonable reaction is like that day on the mountaintop: unrestrained joy that the miracle has happened again…and again…and again. If only we were willing to wait for it every day, our lives might feel lighter.
If only we might wait for the rise of Christ consciousness with every dawn of our waking, our hope might increase. And so on this fifth day of the “O” Antiphons we lift our hearts and pray: O Radiant Dawn, you bring God’s light into our darkness. You are the rising sun, the morning star that brightens lives and lifts spirits. Come, blaze in us and cast out all fear!
Keys are the “key” to so many things. We unlock the doors to our houses with keys (even if now in the form of a key pad). We start our cars with keys (even if it looks like a button remote from a fancy vehicle). Scientists are always looking for the one thing – the key – that unlocks the mystery they are trying to solve. Some of us know (repeatedly) the frustration of looking for our keys that have somehow not been in their regular place, especially when we’re late for work. Most of us can probably tell stories of our worst experiences with (or without) keys.
Plants are amazing metaphors, I think, for the seasons of our lives. I have only two green plants in my bedroom now and although I smile at them and greet them as I come and go, I am sometimes rather inattentive. Happily, I know they are both always willing to forgive me. One is a Christmas cactus that is not a great indicator of the coming feast as it tends to flower at Thanksgiving – or sometimes whenever the inclination to burst forth gets hold of it. This year, however, it seems to have heard the Advent cry of “Come!” and, although with only one bud, is right on schedule to flower around – if not on – the actual feast of Christmas. I am always surprised at the budding and never mind whether or not it skips a year or comes unexpectedly because it is strong and requires very little care. Steadfastness is its gift to me.
The second of the “O” Antiphons (see yesterday’s post) harks back all the way to Moses and the giving of the covenant on Mount Sinai. The Hebrew word Adonai means Lord or Master and is used to signify sovereignty. It is difficult for us to conceive of that concept for God as it is used in the culture of Old Testament times, especially as we are considering the coming of Christ as the human Jesus. If, however, we think of God as Creator of the universe, willing and able to manifest in whatever way will speak to humanity for good in any time and culture, it is a powerful statement. Below are three translations of the antiphon. Consider each as the work of the “Master of the Universe” and see if they are fitting as preparation in Judeo-Christian history for the fulfillment of what we know as the “Christ event.”
Today begins the final countdown to our celebration of the Incarnation of Jesus at Christmas. It is, I think, as significant as it is unusual that today is both Gaudete Sunday – the call to Rejoice! – as well as the day when we begin to hear the O Antiphons, those short chants sung as refrains, at vespers, the evening prayer of the Church.
Given all the tumultuous and difficult news we have experienced in our country during this year – from natural disasters to political unrest and bad behavior – it is difficult to muster up much courage for the future. Just in the past few weeks, however, it seems there is a crack in the fabric of our culture and a sweeping broom of hope has appeared to offer a monumental clearing if we just pay attention. From the Time Magazine designation of “The Silence Breakers” as the “Person of the Year” with the domino effect in Congress and the media to the special election in Alabama this past week, it seems that there is a rising of moral courage among us. What we need now is an ongoing watchfulness and the fortitude that will keep that metaphorical ball rolling. Psalm 80 gives us appropriate words of petition to the God we believe is at the heart of change. I offer it today as a sign of hope and solidarity as we await once again the Incarnation of Christ into the world.
There’s a subtle shift for me today in the Advent theme. Perhaps it will only last until tomorrow but the message of anticipatory waiting is given an additional push from the gospel acclamation – in a rather unusual way. After the psalm I read: Alleluia, alleluia. The Lord will come; go out to meet him! He is the prince of peace. Alleluia, alleluia.
Although St. John of the Cross, whose feast we celebrate today, was a prolific writer who “waxed eloquent” in his theological texts and mystical poetry, I thought the following sentence was enough for our reflection for the day. I hope you agree.
I am relieved this morning at the news that Doug Jones has prevailed in the special election over Roy Moore in Alabama. It is not about Republican and Democrat for me but about the persons themselves and their beliefs. Although Moore continues to contest the results I feel confident that the outcome will show a better result for the country.
My sister gave me a book a long time ago entitled, Our Lady of the Lost and Found. A work of fiction, the story is about a middle-aged writer who (the book jacket explains) “on a typical Monday morning, enters her living room and finds a woman standing by her fig tree. the woman is wearing a blue trench coat, white Nikes and a white shawl over her hair. She is holding a purse and a suitcase. She is the Virgin Mary…”
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